Apples
by iDevalu
Summary: Grow love like apples in a tree. Short stories, MOSTLY fluff, all centered around Teito because Teito is adorable and needs love. Rating T mostly due to the language.
1. Black Hawks

**Title: The Pink Lady Feuds**

**Characters: Teito, Konatsu, Katsuragi, Haruse, Hyuuga, Kuroyuri**

**Rating: T because Kuroyuri has a mouth**

**Word Count: 1,700**

**Timeline: AT - If ****Book One**** basically never happened and Teito joined the Black Hawks as expected**

**Other: Unbeta'd. Sorry for any mistakes**

* * *

It was due to a loud crash that Teito finally glanced up from his book, several hours having passed from the last time he took a break from his almanac of the _'Evolution of Zaphion Over the Centuries'._ It wasn't as interesting as it sounded, not that the teen noticed much. He blinked emerald eyes as they began to water, coming to adjust to the low light of the recreation room. On the other side of the large glass windows, the sky was dark, dusted with constellations and wisps of clouds. There was no moon.

At the lack of a follow-up noise, Teito returned to his book, settling more comfortably into the couch. With his back pressed to the armrest, he melted into the well-worn cushions, feet tucking beneath one of them. All he needed was a blanket and he'd be completely comfortable. But that required Teito to leave his spot on the couch and trek to his rooms, of which he'd rather avoid, if possible.

"Sounded like it came from the kitchens."

Reluctantly, Teito glanced across the room to the blond seated on the floor, legs tucked beneath the low coffee table, papers strewn about in a manner that only Konatsu Warren found organized.

"That's nice," Teito drawled, eyes drawn back to his book.

The night was quiet, or, _had been_ quiet, and calm (_had been)_, and it had been _so long_ since the Black Hawks had had a vacation between missions. _This_ was their vacation, this lull time as they sailed across the sky back to the Barsburg stronghold, so to speak, and Teito was going to enjoy it to the fullest. So move from his spot he was not, and nothing—

_CRASH!_

"I don't think we should ignore that," Konatsu stated, not looking up from the contracts he was forging with his superior's signature.

"We _shouldn't_," Teito began, burying his nose deeper into the large book, "but we _could_."

It took another crash and muted shouting for Teito to throw down his book, properly sit up, shove his socked feet into his boots, and stalk crankily towards the kitchens near the back of the ship. The blond had made no noise, but Teito soon found the young Warren following silently behind him, soft amber eyes straight-forward and harden as if mentally preparing himself for the insanity to come. Teito just took it in stride.

Though he did not expect to walk into the airship's kitchen to be immediately covered in flour. It came from absolutely nowhere, and blasted him full on the face. He coughed and a puff of the powder floated away in the air.

"_What_—?" he began, because unlike Konatsu, he had no patience for his teammates, for none of the Black Hawks. Except perhaps Katsuragi, because he liked the man, the man was quiet if not slightly _insane _from time to time. But he was far better company than Kuroyuri or his silent advocating begleiter, Haruse, of which the duo would be taken ten times over the train-wreck that is Hyuuga. That was Konatsu's problem to deal with. "What the hell!"

"Teito-kun," at Teito's right, Katsuragi appeared with a dry towel that he handed over to the young teen. "You are uninjured, I presume?"

"Yeah," the teen hid a sneer as he ducked his head and dusted his hair, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Completely _intact_."

"Sorry, Tei," Kuroyuri, equally covered in flour, though not as noticeable against his light-pink hair, pouted from across the two large kitchen islands. Once Teito glanced up, cloth over his mouth as he tried to clean the taste of flour off his tongue, Kuroyuri pointed to Hyuuga with a deadly glare. "I was aiming for that piece of shit."

The man in question stood seemingly innocent in the center of the two islands, a disarming grin turning his mouth as he twirled a whisk between his forefingers. "You just came in at the wrong time, Kid."

"I wouldn't have come in at all if there wasn't crashing!" Teito turned to Katsuragi then, who was flour-free, unlike the other two (Hyuuga having white spots across his dark blue apron). "What was the crashing?"

Katsuragi sighed and shrugged helplessly, gesturing to the mess in the kitchen. Cooking and eating utensils were everywhere, a few embedded into the walls; what looked like a fire had been put out with a handful of damp rags on one of the stoves; pots and pans littered every available surface, along with flour, a bottle of oil was still spilling its contents onto the ground in a trickling stream, and somewhere in the mess, there was a timer going off.

That did not forebode well for Teito.

"I am _not_ cleaning this," Konatsu muttered beneath his breath, kicking the bowl that once held all the flour currently on Teito's person across the floor.

"I was attempting to teach Hyuuga-san and Kuroyuri-kun how to bake a pie." Katsuragi sighed. "It is not going as well as expected."

"No shit," Teito muttered darkly as he continued to run the towel down one side of his face. "Why bother teaching them anything when you know how they get?"

"Hey!" Hyuuga started, looking indignant behind his dark glasses. "Katsu is a _horrible _teacher! And that one provoked me," he jabbed a finger towards Haruse.

Kuroyuri slammed his tiny fists against the marble counter, causing two eggs to roll off the edge and die a tragic death. "Haruse did nothing, you fucking freak! You bumped into _him_!"

"He should watch where he's going!"

"You should _shove it up your ass_!"

"Children!" Teito snarled, staking forward and picking up wayward utensils on his way to one of the kitchen islands. Satisfyingly slamming the bits of metal and wood onto the counter, he glared at the two bickering, sparing Haruse only because the man looked pathetic sitting in the corner plucking harden bits of flour from his hair. "I rightfully don't care who did it. What I want is this place _clean—"_

They both whined in unison and Teito just could not help himself – he slammed his forehead onto the counter.

"Look, Teito is right. This place is a mess," Konatsu took up where Teito left off, walking into the fray to place a consoling hand on the brunet's shoulder. "What if Chief Ayanami came in here and saw all this?"

"We were doing this for him," Kuroyuri pouted, drawing small animals into the white dust on the counter.

At Konatsu's raised eyebrow, Katsuragi answered. "They heard Ayanami-sama make mention of his interest in apple pie."

"So we're making him some!" Hyuuga grinned broadly, holding up a small, pinkish apple for the whole room to see.

At that, Teito glanced up. "You can make pies from apples?"

The group looked at him curiously; even Haruse in the corner had a small percentage of emotion on his usually stoic face.

"You can make pies from lots of things," this came from Katsuragi, voice gentle and patient as ever. "Berries and apples are vastly more popular, though any fruit can be turned into a pie with the right knowledge. Meats as well; custards, cream—"

"I get it," Teito cut in before the man could lose himself to his culinary knowledge. The teen then straightened his uniform, dusting off what he could of the flour, made it worse, and just decided to leave it. Teito sighed tiredly, greatly missing his book and his comfy place on the couch. "Lots of pies with lots of fillings. I get it, I get it."

"So you've never had any?" This was Konatsu's simple inquiry as he began to move about the kitchen to pick up utensils, pans and pots without seemingly to notice he was doing so.

"Um," Teito shrugged and joined the blond in picking up scattered equipment towards the opposite end of the kitchen. "It's not something they fed us at the academy. Fruits and deserts and the like were saved for special occasions, and I wouldn't really participate in any of that."

There was a breath of pause before Hyuuga appeared at Teito's side, whisk still in hand and a frown pulling his mouth, causing surprised a jolt from Teito, who dropped a rolling pin in the process.

"I told you to stop doing that!"

"It's so sad though, you poor child!"

Teito evaded the hug like a pro.

" I've never been fond of sweet things," he growled and attempted to will away the heat rising to his cheeks but without much luck. He ducked behind the counter to collect some spoons.

"That is blasphemy!" Kuroyuri cried out at the same time Hyuuga gasped "How can you say such _lies_?"

"Perhaps we can make something for Teito-kun, as well as Ayanami-sama," Katsuragi voiced, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled gently.

"Cheesecake!" Kuroyuri exclaimed excitedly, turning bright eyes onto his begleiter. "Haruse, can we make cheesecake?"

The man nodded. "Of course, Kuroyuri-sama."

Hyuuga turned to Katsuragi then. "Do you know how to make cheesecake?"

"There is not a food item you can name that I do not know how to recreate, Hyuuga-san," the aged brunet chuckled. At that, Hyuuga and Kuroyuri both, and with insertions from Haruse and Konatsu from time to time, attempted to stump the senior officer with a food he knew nothing of – and though they attempted to trick him, the man easily called them out on it.

From across the kitchen, Teito grinned fondly. The kitchen was still a mess, most of the ingredients were on the floor, or the walls, or on each other, but the group was happy, and smiling, a rare commodity what with the pressure put upon them by the Barsburg royals to fix their problems, and that was all the sweet Teito really needed in his life. This, his _family_. His _crazy _family, but his nonetheless.

As he placed a few more bowls and forks on the counter, he found some apples that survived the battle, hidden behind a blender. He took one, inspecting its reddish-pink color, the smooth skin – it fit nicely into the palm of his hand.

Teito took a bite, and found he liked the flavor very much.

_End._

* * *

_A/N: YES. I KNOW - hate me, I haven't updated anything in over a year (for those who know me by my previous works). I've been lacking inspiration, but this is me trying to get back on the bandwagon. I'm working on three separate projects (this will be the fourth), one of which is H. So, HUZZAH~ :D Let's see how long this lasts. Anyway, that's not why I'm writing this a/n. I am writing this a/n to let you guys know that _**Apples **_is a sort of...not drabbles, but kinda? The stories that follow are __**not**__ meant to be read as a single entity. They are all separate, should be __**read**__ as separate, because then it'll just get weird and confusing. They are just connected with the main theme which is, YOU GUESSED IT, apples. The apples in question are in the titles - I won't name them specifically in the stories because that's boring :P Well, that's all I wanted to say. Thanks for reading thus far, and for my faithful readers, thank you for putting up with my shit. You are all saints[hearts]!_

__Reviewers will receive complimentary pies provided by the handsome Black Hawks boys.

[Disclaimer: Pies may not be edible.]


	2. Father Fia Kruez

**Title: McIntosh the Invincible **

**Characters: Teito, Father Kruez**

**Rating: K**

**Word Count: 1,654**

**Timeline: After the Raggs siege, before the death of Fia Kruez.**

**Other: Unbeta'd. Sorry for mistakes. Also, ****NOT A CONTINUATION OR RELATION TO "PINK LADY FEUDS".**

* * *

There was snow, though it looked more like a white sheet plastered against the glass with how hard and fast it was falling. Teito pressed a chubby hand against the window, wanting to reach out, and quickly withdrew his hand at the intensity of the chill.

When his large, curious gem-toned eyes glanced down, he saw the soft, pale skin was irritated a bright, glaring red. He sniffled, only now realizing how badly it burned. He wouldn't cry though, because Father told him that there was no reason for him to cry anymore.

"Ouch," he murmured as the small fingers on his uninjured hand curled around his wrist. It really did hurt, and he wanted it to stop. "Father!"

Fia, dressing in his flowing white robes, rushed into the room where the orphans of the church slept. Where _Teito _should be sleeping now amongst the children near his age, but instead an exasperated smile tugged at his beaten expression, which turned into fond grin, as the child presented his small hand, having had some trouble climbing down the stool he was perched on without the use of his hands.

The room they were in was small, enough to fit a few mats for the children to sleep on and a small corner for them to play and draw when the weather outside refused them. Though now was time to sleep, of which he told Teito in his lowest voice as to not wake the other children. With the torrent of snow outside, they had sought refuge with each other, all bundling up their blankets and mats in a corner and created a sort of nest. The room itself wasn't cold, but the howling of the wind frightened even him a bit.

It sounded like wolves circling the small church.

Teito though – Teito had his blanket on his mat, at the opposite end of the nest. Whether he was excluded, or refused to participate, Fia had not the heart to ask. Instead he took the offered hand, going down to his knees and sitting back on his heels, drawing long, gentle fingers across the small palm.

"What happened, Teito-kun?"

Instead of answering, Teito pointed to the window where his handprint was consumed by frost once more.

"The snow?" Fia questioned, uncertain to what exactly the small boy was attempting to convey. He could puzzle it out, if given the time, but it was late, and he was tired and stressed and thinking hurt more than it should. "Did the snow hurt your hand?"

Teito bobbed his head, then shook it, and gave a frustrated huff of air. His hand wasn't hurting anymore.

"The window," he whispered and took back his hand. The way his father looked at him, with that tired smile and black circles staining the fair color under his eyes – he was sleepy and Teito was keeping him awake. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

Teito shrugged helplessly and turned away, curling onto his mat and meticulously tucking his small blanket around himself – no corners left undone. Fia watched the proceedings but said not a word. His pale eyes glanced to the children in the corner, eight of them he counted and recounted, then Teito. The boy was suffering, quietly, so as to not disturb. Fia placed a hand on a small, fragile shoulder.

"Teito, do you want to come and sleep with me tonight?"

Teito tensed under his palm, and Fia felt a jolt of pain strike his chest. He had never been rejected by the boy before, ever.

"Tei?"

"The snow is loud." The boy peeked from beneath his blanket, green eyes glossy with unshed tears.

Fia smiled softly and carded a hand through shaggy brown locks. The boy immediately leaned into the touch.

"It snowed like this when we left."

Fia's smile faltered, fought a brave battle but died upon his lips. He frowned sadly, looking somewhere, anywhere, where Teito couldn't see it. It had been a repeating argument with himself, if the boy should be allowed to remember the small fragments of his mother and father, but those memories were stained with the blood Barsburg spilled across the Raggs Kingdom.

Was this boy's sanity worth the pain of feeling unloved? Fai smiled gently, looking back to the small boy left in his care – he would love Teito in the place of his parents, and more so.

"Teito, how about we eat a little snack? I'm a bit hungry but I don't want to eat alone."

Teito nodded and gathered himself up in his blanket, curling it around his shoulders, though freed one hand to extend towards his Father. In turn, Fia grinned and gathered the boy into his arms, lifting him onto a shoulder that had the boy suppressing a squeal of excitement at being so high up. His Father was like a mountain: strong and quiet and always in the last place he saw him. He hugged the man fiercely, nuzzling into soft golden hair that smelled familiar of old books and leather and marigolds.

"Is there a particular snack you'd like, Teito?"

Upon entering the kitchen, Teito glanced around the space, trying to look for anything that would catch his attention. The loaf of bread, or rather, small bit of loaf, caught his attention first, and his mouth watered at all the sweet things they could slather atop it, especially if they warmed the bread first.

"Seeing as how you're slobbering all over my robes, I'm guessing you'd like some toast?" Fia questioned with a smile, and that only turned into a grin when Teito puffed his cheeks indignantly. The blond laughed and set the boy down on the counter, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease to set up a small fire in the hearth, and find the jam he'd seen the nuns make today.

"Boysenberry jam or honey?" He held up the two jars to Teito, knowing the child's taste varied from day to day. Teito considered the question very carefully, looking to the two bottles as his tiny feet swung and heels tapped against the counter. He finally pointed to the jam, thought it over, and pointed to the honey, and made a face that explained he wanted neither.

"Okay, okay, prince. So picky," Fia laughed and put away the jars. He glanced through the cupboard again, slowly this time, and found an odd container he had never seen before. He pulled it out of the storage, took the lid off and sniffed at the smooth, white stick of "Butter. Huh," he swiped a corner with his forefinger and stuck it into his mouth. "Apple butter. My, someone's been busy."

"Wassat?" Teito questioned, wanting to know what had grasped his Father's attention so easily.

"It is butter made from apples," Fia explained as he crossed the kitchen to reach Teito, presenting the boy with the ceramic tray holding the stick. "I haven't had any since I was a young boy."

"You were young?"

"Hey," Fia mock-glared at his young nephew, which prompted a bubbling laugh. "You are going to be a menace once you get older. So, want to try?"

Teito nodded enthusiastically, kicking his legs again so they batted against the blond's abdomen. Fai nodded, placed the butter aside and went to cut the bread into sizable pieces to fit onto the pan. As he moved, behind him, Teito grew restless, bare feet kicking against the counter again. He tried to keep still, but smells were filling the once quiet kitchen, in the hearth the wood was crackling, and the knife dully hitting the wooden board kept Teito's attention.

"Father, can you tell me a story? I'm bored."

Fia laughed, "Really, such impatience. You are every bit your father's son."

"But you're really patient."

Fia sighed softly, setting down his knife to turn to Teito. Placing his forearms against the counter and at either side of the young boy, he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, smiling with all the tenderness of the world.

"Of course, so why aren't _you_ patient then?"

"'cause that's boring," Teito grinned and placed his tiny hands against his Father's cheeks.

"Well, I'm going to tell you a story about the benefits of patience." Fia grinned at Teito's groan and moved back to his cutting board, but not before pressing a kiss to the young boy's forehead. As his hands worked though the stages of getting a snack ready, he told a tale he was making up as he went, not that Teito knew any better. He spoke of a great warrior, the greatest, but in his haste to become even more powerful, he went into battle unprepared and disgraced himself – really, the same clichéd story, but with strange, foreign names to make it sound _exciting_. "But the goddess gave him a second chance to redeem himself. She twisted back the hands of time, and as the warrior went back into battle for the second time, he claimed victory. And they all had warm toast to celebrate!"

Fia presented the platter of steamy, golden bread to Teito, who was still having trouble with rolling his eyes, but he was getting there. He took a piece and blew on it carefully, nibbling at it to test the flavor. A glass of milk appeared by his side a second later.

"Was my story good, or was it good?" Fia smiled as he popped an entire piece of bread into his mouth.

"Could use a little work," Teito criticized behind his slice, licking his lips free of butter. "Kinda boring."

Fia pouted, flicking his nephew on the forehead with a forefinger. "You were cuter when you were younger and couldn't talk back."

Teito laughed, already forgetting about the howling winds, the cold snow, the red in his memory, and focused solely on the soothing voice of his Father, the warmth of the grate, and the sweetness of apple on his tongue.

_End._

* * *

Reviewers will receive _Fifty Shades of Grey _audio book read by, yes, Father Fia Kruez.

[Disclaimer: Father Kruez might sound like that crazy guy you know down the street.]


	3. Chief of Staff, God of Death

**Title: A Walk Through Keepsake Woods**

**Characters: Teito, Ayanami, Verloren, Eve**

**Rating: K+ Because...dark themes?**

**Word Count: 1,785**

**Timeline: asdfghjkl; Somewhere after Teito's Capture and brain-washing, maybe.**

**Other: Unbeta'd. Sorry for any mistakes. NO FLUFFITY-FLUFF DEV IS SORRY!**

* * *

Leaves and brittle twigs crunched underfoot as Teito walked further into the forest. Trees, twisted and swaying to an unsung melody, led him down an unmarked path, over smooth hills and a curling stream. An odd scuffle of movement would catch his attention briefly before he'd realize that it was only an animal braving the chilled winter air before disappearing into safety once more. The sky above, or what little could be seen of it through the canopy of bare branches, was spotted with thick, grey clouds weighed down by unshed snow. They drifted lazily across the vast expanse of blue, blotting out the sun in brief lapses.

The teen sighed softly, watching as his breath caught visibly in the air before dispersing just as quickly. It was cold, and he was dressed for the occasion, but it was still cold. The body walking next to him did not help matters either, no matter the human warmth they radiated. Teito tucked his scarf over his mouth, green irises continually drawn to the two figures walking some ways ahead: a girl and a dark shadow. He found himself unconsciously following the path of the girl with the flowing brown hair: his steps melting into hers. Beside him, Teito knew that his companion was doing the same with the shadow that seemed to float across the ground.

The Girl laughed suddenly, breaking the gentle stillness of the forest, and threw a fist to The Shadow. He leaned to one side, giving way to her playful attack, and straightened once more as she took back her hand. Teito watched it all in silence, watched as The Girl swung her arms animatedly, recounting a tale in a language he did not understand. And The Shadow listened: gave not a single word, just listened.

Teito had been following them for a while now, but the sun remained in the same position even after all the passed time, and all the trees around appeared the same as when he first started.

"He loves her," Teito said suddenly, the picture before him fuzzing at the edges.

"…unfortunately," responded the man beside him with a voice as soft and heavy as winter snow.

Teito watched as The Shadow's hand twitched, reaching out to The Girl's momentarily still hand. He drew it back when she reached up to curl a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"He really loves her." At his words, the vision cracked, a web-thin fracture cutting across sky and trees and ground and part of The Girl's left shoulder. "Why doesn't he just say it?"

"He cannot."

The crack split further, deepening and spreading.

"But why not?"

"Because she is she, and he is he."

Thin black lines consumed The Girl, though she continued to laugh and gesture and run ahead to something that caught her attention by a tree, waiting until The Shadow caught up with her again to show him what she found.

"She won't accept him?"

"She will accept him with all her heart." The cracks fell, and the entire left side of the forest gave way to black. "She told him as much."

"Then why?"

The man beside him stopped walking just as The Shadow had stopped as well. Teito slowed his movements but did not follow suit, instead continued to follow the path of The Girl.

"Because of what he is. She deserves better."

Teito's boots scuffed against the ground before he came to a halt, The Girl mirrored his action.

Or perhaps it was the other way around?

At the sound of glass shattering, he began to turn and caught a glimpse of The Girl: the girl with curling brown hair and large green eyes on a face similar to one he's seen in many reflective surfaces millions of times now. It was just a brief moment, and then he was staring into the impassive eyes of Chief Ayanami.

The wind howled around them, causing Teito to shudder at the chill. He huddled deeper into his jacket, stuffing his hands into pockets, and regarded the man carefully. His face was set against cold marble, little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes giving way to some humanity. Ayanami tilted his head at the scrutiny, an oddly innocent gesture that had Teito smiling behind his scarf. Though that moment fled, and the power that had been driving Teito to follow the steps of The Girl faltered, giving him enough room to turn his head to look over his shoulder.

The Girl: she was smiling sweetly and openly – something full of love and understanding and patience. The Shadow, masked in his dark cloak, was not smiling. Though, to Teito, it seemed to be accomplished by some conscious effort.

"Perhaps he should let her decide what she deserves."

The Girl said something then, eyes shining with fight and light, and The Shadow shook his head. Teito turned his head back to see Ayanami do the same.

"She does not understand."

The world around them continued to break – fragile ice cracking underfoot.

"And what doesn't she understand?"

"…that it is wrong," he remained still, like a statue, but his voice faltered: _human_. "It is wrong to love him."

The ground below Teito splintered, the black cracks shooting across like slithering snakes on attack but he did not move.

"Is that fact?" It took Teito a moment to realize that the growl was not his own but The Girl's.

Behind Teito, The Shadow stilled. In front of him, Ayanami squared his shoulders.

"You meddle with what you do not understand, _Klein_," the word was forceful, as if Ayanami was reminding himself of when and where he was.

"I'd understand if you would just _tell me_!" His voice raised an octave, sounding a touch feminine.

"There is nothing I need tell you." Ayanami's tone dropped and deepened, like shadows that hungrily stalk the flickering of a dying candle.

"Do all your secrets keep you company at night, _Verlo_—" Teito shook his head, briefly wondering where the name came from, but wrote it off quickly. He was fighting with this insufferable _man_. _Again_. That took priority. "Ayanami! Is that why you use them to keep me out?"

"I grant you my time and patience," the man growled. The shadow of his military cap consumed the top portion of his face, darkening where before it merely cast shade. His eyes were black against the contrast of his white sclera. "I couldn't keep you out if I tried, you prying, insufferable _imp_."

"Resorting to names, how _mature _of you!"

"Says the one who was running around, giggling like a young fawn not minutes ago!"

"Don't you yell at me!"

"I am not the one who began with the verbal onslaught, _Eve_!"

Teito snapped his mouth shut, looking stricken as he stole a step back from Ayanami. The man, seeming to come back to himself, pulled himself up straight, realizing he had been looming over the boy. They stared at each other quietly, while behind Teito the argument between The Girl and The Shadow escalated.

"_Why_?" Teito shagged his shoulders, tucking his chin to his chest and in the process arranging his scarf back in place.

"There are just some things, Klein, that are."

Teito looked into violet eyes, searched their depths for a satisfying answer. There was nothing to be found however, and he knew this – he did not know why he was looking because he knew before he could find anything that there was nothing. Nothing. He huffed, accepting defeat, and turned to look at The Girl and The Shadow. Their fight seemed to be winding down – she looked as if someone had punched her in the stomach yet she refused to acknowledge it, and was playing the part of the listener for once.

The Girl stood ramrod straight, nodding every once in a while, before her glassy green eyes seemed unable to bear it any longer. She glanced away, her arms coming up to hug her abdomen. Teito found himself doing the same.

"That's not fair," he murmured.

"I am truly remorseful," Ayanami spoke, pulling Teito's attention away by a gloved finger placed gently under his chin. He turned the boy to look at him, to look _up _at him, thumb hooking on the scarf to pull it down. "My wish would have been different, had I known."

"What?"

And he presented Teito with an apple from seemingly thin air. It was round, a soft red with a starburst of yellow at its center.

"Your favorite."

Teito took it from Ayanami, cradling it in both his hands as he turned it over to inspect it. It was firm between his fingers, the skin smooth and sleek and shiny. An ordinary apple.

It was at that thought that he raised his head and turned towards The Girl. She was looking right at him, their twin eyes meeting, and for a brief moment Teito felt as if he was falling and had no way of stopping. The ground beneath his feet was firm, even if it was just a vast expanse of black, but his stomach was queasy and he felt like crying a bit, because there was nothing he could do to stop this feeling, but The Girl just smiled. It was sad but long-suffering, accepting of fate, and she nodded.

"She knew," Teito breathed. "She knew and she still did it."

"…Teito?" Ayanami raised a hand to grasp the boy's shoulder, but Teito evaded the slow moving limb. He took only a step back, because Ayanami was rooted in place and could not follow. "What do you know? What have you seen? _Tell me now_."

Emerald eyes caught onto the Chief of Staff as if seeing him for the first time. His voice quivered, and his hands shook, but he did not let go of the apple. Instead, he held it closer to his chest, cradling it from the world.

"She did 'cause…" he stuttered to a stop.

"_Teito_," Ayanami snarled where his counterpart made a confused sound.

The ripe fruit crunched loudly as Teito bit into it, the juice spilling down the side of his mouth, catching at his chin and soaking into his scarf. He chewed it carefully, swallowed, and choked. His body stiffened before it went lax, the apple in his hand dropping to the ground first before the rest of him followed. He clutched a hand to his throat, eyes wide with fear but acceptance. Because he knew. Knew and still did it.

"_Eve_!"

The world around shattered into a million shards of glass, jagged and uneven, scattered across time and space, because the sweetness of the apple was what killed Eve, not the snake.

* * *

All your donated reviews will go to the wedding of Verloren and Eve.

[Disclaimer: Eve might be Teito in drag.]


End file.
